


Rum and Whiskey

by twistedrunes



Series: George [10]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Chair Sex, Desk Sex, F/M, Floor Sex, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Language, Memories, Oral Sex, Other, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 23:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16963101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: “Did he die in the war?” Finn asks quietly, shuffling himself back against the wall next to you, his knees pulled to his chest.“Yes.”“Was he a hero, like Tommy?”“He was a hero, but not like Tommy.” You say proudly. “He was the sweetest, kindest boy I ever knew. He was so brave.”





	Rum and Whiskey

“I tell ya, Tommy, if you had’a died I would have made her the new CEO,” Arthur says emphatically. Tommy raises his eyebrows. “And the way Alfie talks about her.” Arthur shakes his head in amazement.

Tommy’s shoulders tense and he regards his three brothers standing around his hospital bed. “Her?” He asks coldly.

All three nod “Yeah. That wasn’t George.” Arthur replies. “Anna’s Aunt,” he says quietly to himself. Unnoticed by his brothers Tommy’s pupils dilate at the mention of ‘Anna’s Aunt’.

John shakes his head. 

“What?” Tommy demands, glaring at him.

“Nothing.” John replies “I’m just fucking glad she’s on our side.” He rubs his hand through his hair “Tommy, in less than six hours she killed six men and tortured three more, just to get you back.”

“She snipped his fucking fingers off,” Arthur chips in “like she was trimming his fucking nails.” He explained. “She didn’t fucking blink.”

“So where is she?” Tommy asks.

Arthur and John shrug, glancing at each other.  

“She left.” Finn says “Said the hospital was for family and asked me for the keys to the car.”

“When?” Tommy asks, his jaw tensing.

“Yesterday, just after we got here.” Finn’s eyes grow wide “Oh fuck! The car wasn’t there when we got home or this morning.”

“George wasn’t home last night when you got there?” John demands, grabbing Finn and shaking him.

“I didn’t notice the car. I just thought he must be asleep.” Finn replies weakly.

“So no one knows where she is?” Tommy demands, looking from one brother to the next. “She’s just wiped out two-thirds of a gang sent to get me and you’ve all just fucking left her to fend for herself?”

Arthur holds his brother’s steely gaze “Trust me, brother. Anyone trying to hurt her will regret it and that’s without Shelby family protection.”

“Anyone trying to get me will fucking regret it.” Tommy says evenly, heaving himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed “But here I fucking am!”  He explodes slamming his hand on the side table.

“The fuck you doing Tommy?” Arthur asks anxiously, his hand on Tommy’s chest trying to push him back into bed.

“She’s been gone over twenty-four hours,” Tommy says menacingly, grabbing Arthur by the throat, eyes flaring.

“Ollie called,” Michael says as he pushes the door open. He stops in the doorway at the sight of his cousin’s literally at each other’s throats. The eyes of all men turn to him.

“And?” Tommy snaps releasing Arthur

“He says George is in London.” Michael stops again, puzzled by the relief shown by his cousins.

“She’s fucking what?” Tommy says getting to his feet.

Michael’s eyes travel from one cousin to the next. His brow furrowed at Tommy’s choice of pronoun. “Ollie says that George” he stresses the name “is in London, asleep at the bakery apparently, and that Alfie said you don’t have to worry about the Russians.”

Arthur’s face pales, his hand rubbing his face “Fuck.”

Tommy leans back against the bed “Something to share Arthur?” He asks coldly.

“When we got here, yesterday, she said she overheard the guys who had ya, asking about some egg. She asked about it and I told her about Romanov and Petrovna.”  Arthur confesses.

Tommy rolls his eyes at his brother. “Her or Alfie?” Tommy asks, more to himself than the others.

“Her.” Arthur, John and Finn answer in unison.

John pulls a cigarette, tapping it on the case absently “That’s fucking eight.”

\---------------

“I fucking told you lot to fucking keep it down. Right?” You hear Alfie bellowing.

You open your eyes looking around. He’s not in the room. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you’re smiling when he walks back through the door muttering to himself. “Alfie,” you greet him.

“I’ll fucking shoot ‘em.” He spins around placing his hand back on the door handle.

“You woke me up, Alfie.” You say barely able to keep the laughter from your voice.

Alfie towers above you, working his fingers through his beard “Fuck sweetie. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya.”

“What time is it?” you ask stretching, arching your back and lifting your hips off the couch.

Alfie’s eyebrows creep up his forehead at the sight. His tongue tracing the arch of his top lip.

“The time Alfie?” You remind him rolling to your stomach, pushing up on your arms and pushing your butt to your heels, dropping your head between your arms.

Alfie clears his throat and pulls his fob from his waistcoat “Seven thirty.” He says, his fingers gliding over your back. You sigh, arching up against him. Alfie’s palm presses against your lower back, smoothing the material of your waistcoat. “You want a drink?” He offers, lifting his hand from you.

You kneel, before flicking your legs from under you and sitting on the lounge “I would love a rum.”

Alfie fills a glass, putting it on the desk and indicating you should join him there. He sits in his chair, resting his feet on the desk. He watches you cross the floor, smirking as you match his posture, feet resting on his desk.

“Do you read the paper, George?” He asks picking up a newspaper from his desk. You watch him raise his glasses to the end of his nose, setting them in place before dropping his chin to look at you over the top of them.

“No Alfie, can’t say I do.” You pull a cigarette from its case and light it, drawing deeply. Blowing the smoke to the ceiling you continue “I’ve always found I have enough trouble of my own without bothering with other people’s.”

“Ah, but in this modern age George.” He points his finger at you. “In this modern age, everything is connected.” You raise your eyebrow questioningly. “See just here in this evening’s paper,” he taps at the page with his finger. You take another drag on your cigarette, hanging your head back over the chair. Alfie continues “Russian couple, aristocrats they were, here in London, probably thinking they had escaped the troubles of their homeland. Both killed this morning. Red’s so they say in the paper here. Communists.” He turns back to you. “Did the Peaky’s send you or did you come of your own accord. Not that I have any problem with those fuckers being dead.” He says smiling.

“I came of my own accord, Alfie.” You take another long drag of your cigarette.

“Right, so how many’s that now?” He asks watching you intently

You ignore his gaze, raising your glass to your lips you allow the sweet liquid to slide down your throat like a balm.

“When did you change to rum?” Alfie asks, changing the subject, not being able to get a response from you.  You shrug, not looking up. “See ‘cause, I gotta a theory about the different drinks. Yeah?”

“Hmm?” You respond still not looking up, taking another sip.

“Well whiskey see, whiskey is for business. And rum,” he pauses “rum is for fun and fucking.”

“Do you have a point, Alfie?” You ask draining the glass, sinking further down into the chair.

Alfie chuckles, not used to being on the receiving end of the cooler aspects of your personality. “Love,” he tries charming you “my point is, last time you were here you drank whiskey. Yeah? So that was business, right?” You raise your head meeting his gaze, but just shrug “Well this time, its rum. So you’re here for fun.” Alfie drops his feet to the floor, his elbows resting on the desk, as his fingers rake through the hair around his mouth.

You set your glass on the desktop and suck the last drag from your cigarette, before copying his actions and dropping your feet from the desk to the floor. You grind your cigarette out in the ashtray. Your hands empty, you press your palms to your cheeks, elbows resting on the table as you drop your head to the side and fluttering your eyelashes.

Alfie’s eyes bore into yours, ignoring your flirtation “So my question, sweetie, is when did killing stop being business and start being fun?” He asks his head dropping to the side mimicking your own move.

Holding his eye you lift your head from your hands, your thumb and forefinger tugging at your lips as you consider his question. Picking up your glass you walk around the desk, trailing the fingers of your free hand along its surface. Alfie, watching your approach sits back in his chair, lifting his arms and linking his fingers behind his head. You stop in front of him and lean back on his desk, plucking the rum decanter from its home and filling your glass again. You straddle his lap and settling your arms on his shoulders “My business is over Alfie. Didn’t involve you.” You say pointedly. “How do you know that I’m not here for fucking?” you roll your hips against him.

Alfie considers your question. Eyes roaming your face, his hands dropping to your hips and lifting you back on to his desk. He stands and pushes his hips between your knees. “Because you didn’t come here first.”

You lean back, elbows resting on the surface of the desk, chuckling at his arrogance. You wrap your legs loosely around him, pushing the heels of your boots into the backs of his thighs. Looking up at him through your lashes you laugh lightly “Now Alfie, you know as well as I do, business always comes before pleasure.” You run your tongue over your lips.

Alfie smirks. His hands drop to your knees pulling them up so they are pressed against his ribs. Before sliding along the outside of your thighs, grabbing your hips and pulling you hard against him. You both moan as you come in contact with each other. His cock already creating a sizable lump in his trousers. He lifts your hips rubbing you against him. Your head drops back as the sensation flows through you. Alfie takes full advantage, pouncing on your neck and exploring with his tongue. “How long did it take Anna’s Aunt to get the answers you needed to get Tommy?” He asks between light kisses up your neck.

You push your hands into the desktop and sit up, forcing Alfie up with you. You look up into his questioning face “If we’re going to talk business, you better pour me a whiskey.” You say.

Alfie erupts in laughter, thumb and forefinger caressing your jaw “How is it Tommy hasn’t fucking shot you yet?” You move out of his grasp, hands pressed into the desk behind you for balance. Alfie looks you up and down, his hand travelling to your crotch, rubbing lightly against the fabric “Maybe ‘cause you’re fucking him? Hmm?” He asks eyebrows twitching upwards.

“I’ll tell you what I told him when he asked the same question about you. Yeah?” Your index finger tapping against his chest as you make your point “Who I fuck is none of your fucking business. Is it?” You arch your eyebrow. Alfie nods conceding your point. “But,” you continue “if you want any chance of it being you, you’ll shut the fuck up.”

“Fucking cocaine,” Alfie mumbles into your neck, pulling you to him.  

\---------------

You had taken your car to Alfie’s, barely having come to a stop before Alfie had climbed the steps and thrown the front door open. You had stopped to remove your guns from the backseat before following him. He was already pawing at you as you set the weapons on his lounge. However, once your hands were free of their burden you had pulled his jacket, hat and waistcoat off in a matter of seconds. Dropping them recklessly to the floor. Alfie had not been able to stop the smirk when you shoved him into his favourite armchair. He had gasped in pleasure when you palmed his throbbing cock through his trousers. Then when you dropped to your knees between his legs and rubbed your face against him like a cat marking him with her scent his large rough hand grabbed the back of your neck and curses flowed incoherently from his lips.

You held his gaze hungrily as you removed his shoes, tossing them over your shoulder with no regard for where they landed. Revelling in the desire in his eyes, your hands creep over his calves, around his knees and along the inside of his thighs. You pause, before lifting his shirt and kissing his hardened stomach. You shiver as his cock twitches against your chest, your nipples growing painfully quickly. Your hand rubs along his length again and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, biting down to stop the moan escaping you.

Alfie’s eyes roll back in his head as he catches the wanton hunger in your eyes. His hands reach for you and brush against your nipples. Your head drops back unable to contain the moan his touch elicits from you. Your fingers fumble with the fastenings on his pants as he teases your nipples to aching nubs. You grab his pants at the waist and yank them firmly down to his knees, mewling as his cock springs up to greet you. You fall on it hungrily, taking half of him in your first mouthful and nearly choking yourself. Alfie’s fingers digging pleasurably into your upper arms as your throat closes around him.

“Fuck.” He groans releasing his grip on your shoulders to brush your fringe back from your face. You look up at him, basking in his adoring gaze. He smiles at you, his voice low and strained “careful lass or I won’t last five minutes.” You nod and swallow, causing his hips to buck, before sliding your mouth off him, using your tongue to caress the underside as you release him. You hold his gaze as you loosen and then undo your tie, the tie clip thudding gently against the floor when it lands. Taking him in your hand you slide along his length, your thumb dancing over the head. Alfie’s breath is already shallow, his eyes heavy and lust-filled. You open your mouth again, inching his length into you, concentrating on relaxing your throat and calming your breathing you manage to take three-quarters of him. Alfie’s hand resting on the back of your head, fingers flexing in pleasure. You return your hand to him, again caressing him in your hand.

You keep pumping him while you stand, wiping the spittle from the corners of your mouth with your free hand. Resting one knee next to his hip your wrap your free arm around his neck and whisper in his ear. “I want you to fuck my mouth and cum.” Alfie’s hands grab your hips, as he presses his teeth into your neck. “But,” you warn him “I need to know that you will be able to perform again tonight.” Alfie nods into your neck, his beard raking over the sensitive skin, causing you to gasp. Alfie gently guides your hips backwards, supporting you until your knees hit the floor. Immediately your press your lips against the burning heat of the head of his cock. You kiss gently as your hand begins to slowly pump him again. 

You feel Alfie trying to relax, breathing deeply and hands resting lightly on your shoulders. You flick your tongue over your lips and immediately feel all the tension return to his body, you can’t help but smirk. “Think that’s funny do you?” Alfie rumbles.

Wetting your lips again, you slowly sink your mouth over Alfie’s throbbing cock, waiting until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone and his head resting against the back of your throat you look up at him and reply “Mm, hmm.”

“Fuck!” Alfie cries, hips bucking and his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You take a deep breath through your nose, before sliding back off him, not completely releasing him before taking him entirely again. Alfie’s eyes flutter closed and he slides down in the chair. You bob your head along his member, using your hand to follow your mouth, ensuring you get all of him. Alfie’s hips begin to rock, meeting you. You moan in pleasure. Gentle vibration causing Alfie’s eyes to fly open and he groans in return. The sight of you red-cheeked and eyes watering pushing him over the edge. His hand tugs at your hair as he thrusts into you. Your eyes close as you enjoy the feeling and taste of his hot seed filling your mouth.

Spasms finished, Alfie’s hands grasp at your underarms pulling you up into his lap. He yanks your shirt over your head burying his face in your neck and sucking hungrily at your flesh. He holds you as he sinks to his knees laying you back on the rug. He kisses you deeply, nipping and sucking at your lips. He kneels between your legs undoing your pants, he moans at the sight of your black satin and lace underwear. He moves backwards tugging your pants down, sitting back on his heels and lifting your legs to remove the pants completely. Like you, he casts them away with no thought as to where they may land.

Alfie gazes down at you, tongue teasing at his lips, his eyes roaming as if trying to determine which part of you he wants to consume first. He runs his fingers over the bindings containing your breasts. Shaking his head he mutters “This won’t do.” His fingers working at loosening them, he quickly becomes frustrated. Growling he crawls over you, stretching to snare the sleeve of his jacket and pull it to him. Rummaging through the pockets he finally pulls a cut-throat from one of the inside pockets. He flings the jacket away again and repositions himself, straddling your hips. He flicks the razor open and looks down on you questioningly. You nod consent. Alfie slips the razor underneath the bottom of the bindings. The coldness of the blade causing a cascade of goose bumps to spread over your body. Alfie flicks his wrist, the blade making short work of the material. He continues sliding the blade under the fabric, flicking his wrist and pushing the tattered threads from your body slowly revealing your flesh to him.

“Fucking beautiful, ain’t ya?” Alfie growls, rubbing his palms against your stomach, up over your ribs and grasping your breasts. Smiling he leans back slightly, tracing his fingertips around your nipples, making your hips rise and a moan escape you. Your own hands rub over his thighs and up under his shirt. You tweak his nipples between your fingers, laughing as he jerks away. Alfie grabs your hands in his own, looking down on you. “Funny is it?” he asks. Your lips twitch trying to hold back more laughter.  He pushes your hands over your head as he presses his lips to yours.

Holding your hands in place with one hand, he moves his head backwards and forwards over your exposed body. Using his beard to taunt your skin. Unable to bear the gentle torture you push your chest out at him. “Alfie.” You moan, begging him. You don’t want slow and gentle. You want fast and hard. You can see the devilment in his eyes as he uses his free hand to trail behind his beard, fingertips a cool balm to the prickly, irritation of his whiskers.

Alfie moves down your body, moving his legs so he no longer straddles you, but so your legs intertwine, his thigh pushed against your throbbing sex. You rock your hips against the firmness of his thigh, head rolling back as the pressure reaches your clit. You break free of his grasp, fingers digging into any part of him you can reach, dragging over the skin in a desperate attempt to bring more of him against you. Alfie lowers himself to his elbows, pressing against you. His hips rock slowly, moving his thigh against you. You grab the back of his head and growl in his ear “Fuck me!”

You can feel Alfie’s smile against your neck “You’re hungry aren’t you little one?” he chuckles. You feel his hand travelling slowly over your stomach, fingers toying with the lace edge of the top of your panties. You grab his hand, pushing it firmly down into your underwear and between your legs. You groan in unison, as Alfie’s finger glides over you, feeling how slick you are. Alfie pulls himself from you grasping the backs of your thighs roughly as he simultaneously rips off your panties and positions your ankles either side of his neck. You whimper as your butt brushes against his rigid cock, nearly collapsing completely when the head glides easily over your sex. Alfie allows you a few moments rubbing against him, smiling broadly as your fluids coat his cock.  

Alfie’s hands glide down your legs, over your ass and come to rest at your waist. Strong arms wrapping around you as he lifts you from the floor. Your legs drop, wrapping around Alfie’s hips as he moves you. You wrap your arms around his neck, peppering his face with kisses. He carries you out of the sitting room, each step causing his cock to slap you lightly, sending shivers through you. Releasing your waist for a moment, Alfie opens a door behind you. Passing through, he kicks it closed again. You look around you confused, you’re in Alfie’s office. He drops you on the desktop, quickly picking up piles of paper and placing them on various other surfaces around the room. Finally, he drops himself into his chair. You look at him questioningly “I’m getting too old love, for crawling ‘round on the floor. Right? I’ll be laid up for a week if we kept going out there.” Seeing the amusement in your eyes he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you towards him. You fall back against the desk, gasping as he buries his face in your centre. Tongue expertly honing in on your clit. Veins still full of adrenaline, belly full of rum, it takes barely minutes before Alfie’s tongue pulls the first orgasm crashing out of you. You scream and buck, knocking the few remaining sheets of paper from the desk to the floor.

Managing to compose yourself a little, you push yourself up onto your elbows you wink at Alfie “Not bad for an old man.” You tease.

Feigning indignation Alfie rises to his feet and takes himself in hand. Your eyes flash loving the sight of his rigid velvet cock in his coarse hand. Again you catch him between your legs pulling him to you. Alfie watches you intently as he slides the head of his cock between your lips. The delicious feeling of his iron fist in its silken cloak caressing your clit nearly tips you over the edge again. Alfie’s free hand slithers up to your nipple, teasing it by rolling it between thumb and forefinger. “Fuck.” You moan, squirming now in an attempt to guide Alfie into you.

Alfie tuts at you and stops pressing against you. You whimper in disappointment but are quickly delighted as he slips a finger inside you. You press down hard rocking your hips. He removes the finger “Ready.” He pronounces. Returning his hand to his cock he holds himself at your opening, pulsing softly. You grasp at his hips, trying desperately to pull him into you. Relishing your need he pushes barely an inch into you. You growl in frustration. Alfie plunges into you, immediately hitting your spot. You cry out in pleasure. Alfie grabs your hips and begins pounding into you. You rise meeting his thrusts with your own. Legs like a vice around his waist as you lose yourself in the pleasure. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of your wet skin slapping against the blotter. You feel your muscles beginning to tense as Alfie pushes you closer and closer to climax.

“I’m close,” You manage to tell him. He grunts and you feel the roughness of his thumb press against your clit. You explode, the room going dark as you fall, you throw your arms over your head as Alfie keeps thrusting into you. You hear a crash but pay it no attention. You open your eyes and seeing Alfie’s face screwed up above you, you reach up pulling his face down to yours kissing him deeply. He relaxes for a moment, resting his head on your chest as he enjoys the spasms of you gripping and releasing him. You stroke his hair as you realise he is still firm inside you. “Alfie?” You ask quietly.

Alfie lifts his head, kissing your chest softly as he looks at you. “Not that old.” He teases. Pulling you with him as he sits back in his chair. You sigh happily as you settle on top of him, body weakening as he reaches even further inside you. Alfie’s hands slide over your back, as you begin riding his steel-like cock. Your hips rolling to push him against your most sensitive places. You place your hands on the back of Alfie’s chair as he suckles on your breasts and kneads your ass.

You continue slowly, flexing your pelvic floor muscles to caress him. Desperate to bring him with you this time. You allow his hands to guide your hips as his breathing becomes ragged. Fingers pulling your hair as his hips thrust up to meet yours. You’ve tried to hold off, but you can feel yourself sliding towards the abyss again. “Alfie.” You mumble into his neck. Alfie’s body tenses as his orgasm overtakes him. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he empties himself inside you. His hips twitch again, bumping your clit, sending you tumbling against him. You bite down on his shoulder, moaning deeply as your limbs turn to molten metal. You cling to each other, enjoying the aftermath of your passionate outpouring. 

Alfie kisses across your shoulders. “We can’t do this anymore.” He says mouth pressed to your ear.

You pull away, not hurt exactly, but surprised he would say so now with his cock still inside you.

Alfie sees the look of confusion on your face and spins the chair around so you can see what he does. A shattered lamp and paper are strewn across the floor around the desk. “I’ll have no fucking house left, will I?” He replies looking up at you, before pulling your mouth to his and kissing you deeply.

\---------------

“Alfie sends these.” You say as you put a basket of assorted bakery treats on the bureau in Tommy’s hospital room. “And his good wishes.” You finish, standing at the end of Tommy’s bed, hands now shoved in your pockets.  

“What the fuck were you thinking, going to London by yourself?” Tommy says angrily.

“Hi, George. Good to see you. How are you? Good Tommy. Yourself?” You reply crossly. Tommy simply glares at you, completely ignoring your rebuke of his lack of social graces. You meet his gaze “I was thinking that I was going to kill the fucking Russians.” You reply bluntly. “And before you ask, Alfie had nothing to do with it.”

Tommy’s eyes close and he shakes his head. “Fuck.” He mumbles. “Arthur’s right, you’re fucking ruthless.”

“Maybe. But they aren’t coming back are they?” You reply evenly.

Tommy nods, unable to argue with your logic.

“Excuse me?” A nurse sticks her head around the door. Tommy motions for her to come in and you move to the side of the bed to give her access to Tommy’s chart. You turn your back as she pulls down the sheet from Tommy’s naked chest to conduct her examination. They speak quietly amongst themselves.

You jump as you feel Tommy’s fingers brushing against your own and gently pulling you back and around to face him. You look around for the nurse but realise she has left silently. His thumb brushes the back of your hand.  “I just want to know you’re okay.” He says quietly, eyes searching your face.

“I’m fine.” You nod, slipping your hand out of Tommy’s grasp and into your pocket.

“You shouldn’t have gone on your own.” He continues.

You roll your eyes in irritation.

Tommy waits for your answer, the tip of his index finger hooked into your pants pocket. Then realising he hasn’t asked you a question he continues in a different vein. “Arthur and John were very impressed with Anna’s Aunt.” He says, his hand returning to rest against his stomach. “It’s a shame I didn’t get a chance to meet her.”

You turn away looking out the window “Well I expect she’s well on her way home by now.”

“Pity, I was going to invite her to my party.” He says, not completely concealing the irritation in his voice.

“Oh, is it still on?” You look back at him, genuinely surprised it would go ahead.

“We’ll put it back a few weeks, but yeah, Arthur won’t take no for an answer.” Tommy watches you for a moment “You know you don’t have to be George, at work? You can be Anna,” You open your mouth to argue. Tommy holds up a hand to stop you “or whatever you choose to call yourself. It’s my factory, we can do what we like right?” You shake your head. Tommy presses on “I mean you can’t keep being George forever.” He pauses “You must have needs.” He suggests awkwardly. You roll your eyes. He struggles on “I mean unless you prefer women?”

You smirk, but take pity on him, “No Tommy.” You confirm “Not that it’s any of your business.” You can’t help but chide him.

“But don’t you want a family?” He asks  

You slump down in the chair next to the bed, you rest your elbows on your knees looking through your fingers at the floor “No. Once, maybe. Not anymore.” You shake your head, lowering your voice until it’s barely audible “Tommy, I have killed and tortured people, no one accepts that in a woman. When you do it, you’re a hard man.” You look up at him “It’s almost desirable in a man, you know, girls want a bad man they can save.” Tommy nods begrudgingly. You wonder how many women he has had due to his hardman status. You sigh “When a woman does shit like that, people lose their fucking minds. I’ll be packed off to the gallows, or worse, the nut house in no time. No man wants a woman harder than he is.”

“No one needs to know,” Tommy says, his expression dark as he tries to figure out a way around the truth of the situation.

It softens you, seeing him fighting against the truth of the world “There is nothing you can do to change it, Tommy, and, if I’m going to lie for the rest of my life, I might as well stay here.” You shuffle uncomfortably “Tommy, your family is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a family. I like it here.”

\---------------

You settle in, in the Garrison, listening to Arthur and John telling loud and over-blown stories about something that had happened at the races earlier in the day. You lean back in your seat watching the family. Esme and Linda both trying to ignore their husbands. Polly and Ada chatting happily. Finn, unusually, is sitting apart scowling at the entire group.

After about twenty minutes Finn gets to his feet “I’m going home.” He says.

“Past your bedtime hey Finn boy?” Arthur goads him.

Finn simply shrugs and walks out. Polly leans over to you “He’s been funny ever since Tommy was taken.” She says concerned. “I’ve tried to talk to him, but he won’t have a bar of it.”

You throw back your drink and give Polly a nod “I’ll talk to him.”

Finn’s in the sitting room, smoking moodily. “Mind if I join you?” you ask casually.

“Suit yourself.” Finn says standing “I’m off to bed.” He grinds his nearly whole cigarette out in the ashtray.

You nod and sit, settling back you smoke a cigarette. After about half an hour you follow Finn upstairs. You knock lightly on his door “Finn?”

“What?” he grumbles

“I just want to see if you’re okay. You don’t seem yourself.” You say softly, leaning your hands against the doorframe.

“I’m fine.” He says tersely.

“Yeah, except you’ve got your very own dark cloud following you everywhere you go.” Nothing. “So how’s your girl?” You try. Nothing. “Tried the tongue thing yet?” You ask getting desperate.

“No!” Finn yells flinging open the door. You take a step back more in surprise than anything. You’ve never heard Finn actually angry before. “You don’t get to pretend to be my friend anymore.” He snaps before slamming the door again.

You press your head against the door. Pressure building in your chest, your eyes closing. “I’ve never pretended to be your friend Finn.” You say quietly.

“Yeah? Then why did you make me watch the phone? You lied to me when you took the car. John nearly killed me when they found out you had gone to London.” Finn yells, his hand slamming against the door. The vibration shaking you.

You put your hand on the doorknob, turning it tentatively “Finn, please let me in. I don’t want to talk to you through a door.”

“Why? So you can lie to my face?” Finn cries yanking the door open and causing you to stumble through. Wheeling out of control, you smash your forehead into Finn’s lip. It swells immediately, and a thin line of blood appears. Horrified you drawback, but still off balance you just fall and land heavily on your ass. Finn looks down at your startled face, arms stretched out before you and bursts out laughing.  

“Ow,” you moan, rolling to one side and rubbing your hand over your butt. Finn laughs louder. His hand rising to his lip as it splits further.

“Stop laughing at me and help me up you little shit.” You growl trying to suppress your own laughter. You stick your hand out towards him.  He pulls you up, patting your head to remind you, you’re shorter than him. You bat his hand away “Still a little shit.”  You stand, grinning at each other, you throw your arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. “Friends?” You ask voice high-pitched and sickly sweet.

“Yes.” He says flatly. You keep him in your grasp “Oh God. Get off me, George.” Finn splutters pushing you away.

You sit on the edge of his bed. “Finn,” you pat the bed next to you, he sits grudgingly “I put you in charge of the phone because I knew I could trust you. I knew you would stay calm and not run off and do something stupid. That’s why I kept John and Arthur with me, without Tommy they have no control, they just act, they don’t think. Plus I knew you would actually take a message and get it to us if someone did ring. I made sure you came with us to get Tommy didn’t I?”

Finn nods “But you made me drive.”

You shake your head “Same reason, you did what you were asked to do. John and Arthur would have been driving, trying to shoot, trying to grab Tommy and probably three other stupid things all at the same time. I knew you would drive, get in and out as fast as possible, without crashing and killing us all, and that was what Tommy needed.”

Finn nods, his fingers pressing against his lip cautiously, examining them for new traces of blood. “But you lied to me about the car.” He says quietly.

“Yeah, I did and I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Finn asks

“I never really had a family Finn.” You begin, shuffling backwards so your back is against the wall and crossing your legs under yourself. “My mum died when I was little and my dad,” you pause “well he never really wanted me and I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I know the others give you a hard time, and that you’re frustrated. That you think, they think you’re still a kid. But you’re so lucky. You all are. I know what it’s like to really be alone, and I don’t ever want any of you to feel like that.” You pat his hand.

“Where’s your dad now?” Finn asks, picking at the bedspread.

“He’s dead.” You say. You pause wondering if you should tell him the truth. But he turns to face you and for a moment he looks just like George, young and innocent and loved and you can’t do it.

Finn pats your knee “So you’re an orphan too.” He says quietly. His sweetness reminds you so much of George, that for a moment you can only see George and not Finn, but then he’s gone. Tears well up in your eyes. Finn’s brow furrows “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You reach out and stroke his face with the backs of your fingers “Not your fault. You just reminded me of someone I used to know.” You drop your hand from his face “Sorry.” Pulling your knees to your chest, you wrap your arms tightly around them.      

“Did he die in the war?” Finn asks quietly, shuffling himself back against the wall next to you, his knees pulled to his chest.

“Yes.”

“Was he a hero, like Tommy?”

“He was a hero, but not like Tommy.” You say proudly. “He was the sweetest, kindest boy I ever knew. He was so brave.” Finn watches you, waiting for you to continue. Your eyes close as you remember George’s face when he told you he had volunteered as a medic. He was so pleased he had found a way to serve without having to fight. “He didn’t want to kill anyone. He didn’t believe in the war. So he volunteered as a medic, he was going to save people.” You say opening your eyes to look at Finn.

“What was his name?”

“George Hunter. You remind me so much of him. He was my best, my only friend.” You say.

“You took his name,” Finn notes. You nod, tears hot in your eyes. Finn ducks his head “I’m not brave.” He peaks up at you through his fringe “I’m glad, really, that you gave me jobs where I didn’t have to shoot or hurt anyone. I’m not like them. I don’t think I could do it.” He finishes quietly.

“See you are brave, you still helped to save Tommy, before anything too bad happened and you didn’t hurt or kill anyone.” You both sit quietly for a moment. You rest your head against his shoulder. “You know, I think I gave you those jobs because you remind me so much of George. I didn’t want you to see me doing those things. I didn’t want to see the change in the way you’d look at me.”

“But John and Arthur think you’re amazing! Arthur told Tommy that if he had died, Arthur would have made you the next CEO!” His eyes dance in awe.

You smile sadly “Maybe. But I don’t think George would like me anymore, the person I’ve become since he’s been gone.” You trail off, trying to remember who you were when George loved you. “I think all my goodness died when he did.” You admit.  

Finn wraps his arm around your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours “There’s good in you. I know it. If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t be your friend would I?”


End file.
